Sigyn vs the World — ON HOLD
by aylithe
Summary: Meet Sigyn. Hoping to win it big in Asgard's Magic Battle Royale, she has just met the boy of her dreams … literally. The only catch to winning Loki Laufeyson? His seven evil exes are coming to kill her. Huge mash-up of Norse mythology, the comics, and the MCU following the /Scott Pilgrim vs. The World/ movie. Inspired by victorious-asynja on Tumblr.


**I was going to publish this at a later date, but I haven't slept for 36 hours, and I just don't really care any more. So here's this. I've really gotta stop starting new projects.**

**So a note before I start. This Loki is not really the Loki in the MCU, more-so like a mash between the MCU's Loki, and my own ideas about myth!Loki. Why? Because MCU!Loki is just too emo for this story which is, in all sense, a comedy. Having emo bum in this would not have worked well, so he's of a lighter heart for one, and yeah. So … onward.**

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><p><em>Not so long ago …<em>

_In the mysterious land of Asgard …_

_Sigyn Bláinsdóttir was courting an initiate Einherji._

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

**NOT SO LONG AGO …**

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><p>"Sigyn is courting an initiate Einherji?"<p>

"Really?"

"An initiate?" Sjöfn asked, stretching her legs under the table and crossing her arms. "Isn't that a bit … young? How old are you now, Sigyn? Seventeen hundred?"

"Thirteen hundred," Sigyn said, turning around and giving Sjöfn a pointed glare. "I'm thirteen hundred." Thirteen hundred was, Sigyn had been told countless times by family members and others of the general public, the prime of her life. Her honey-blonde hair fell to her elbows in soft curls, and her storm grey eyes, which had a fleck of brown in the left eye, were bright with youth. Her skin held a slight tan to it, and her face was plastered with freckles across much of her nose. Pretty, she had been called by those close to her, but she wasn't a great beauty of the likes of the Lady Freyja or Lady Sif — Prince Thor's newly betrothed. At least 'pretty' was better than being called 'cute' which was a label she had escaped only within the last three centuries or so.

"So, you're courting an initiate Einherji," Baldr said, giving her a sideways look.

"Aye, and how old is your new 'lover'?" Sjöfn asked disapprovingly.

"He's a thousand and twenty-five," Sigyn said, squeezing herself into a chair at the tiny, overcrowded table and being careful not to spill her tea. The kitchen was cramped, with barely enough room for the four of them to move around the table. Sigyn had banged her legs into the corners of the table too many times to count, and the cupboards were a bit of a challenge to open any day the room was so narrow and the table so central.

"So have you … err … _done_ it, yet?" asked Höðr, crossing his arms and peering at her in an almost sheepish way.

Sigyn rolled her eyes. "I can tell you, you pervert, that we have in fact done many things. I have taken walks with him around the city and Idavoll, talked with his friends, and I have even kissed his cheek after one of his training sessions, but he got embarrassed so I haven't done it again."

Baldr snorted into his cup, but Sjöfn looked at her flatly. "Well aren't you just _pleased_?" she said monotonically.

"Don't be a storm cloud, Sjöfn," Sigyn said absently, sipping her own tea.

"And what is the name of our mysterious and illusive Einherji initiate?" Baldr asked, now taking a bite of his bread.

"His name's Ullr. He enjoys hunting in his spare time."

"Is this hunting one of the 'many things' you have done together?" Sjöfn asked.

"No," Sigyn said, placing her mug on the table and pointedly looking at Sjöfn, "because, unlike you, I don't think highly of senseless things like hunting. I've tried telling Ullr what I think of it, and he's considering stopping."

"You're compassionate as ever," was Sjöfn's bored reply. "Just one thing we _all_ need more of in our lives."

"Oh shut up, Sjöfn."

"And will we be meeting him soon?" Baldr asked to get off the direction the conversation had taken, finishing his bread and wiping his hands of crumbs.

"Oh _please_ let it be soon," Sjöfn groaned.

"Umm … very soon."

"I really don't like the sound of th—"

A knock came from the door and Sigyn stood up swiftly with a smile. "Soon as in now."

"Sigyn, if you're going to have someone over, at least give us a forewarning," Baldr complained. "Especially as it's my—"

"Our," Höðr put in.

"_Our_ place."

"I did forewarn you," Sigyn said.

"You call this a forewarning? This is hardly the best forewarning. You're usually better than this, Sigyn."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, alright? It's just … there's no excuses. It won't happen again."

"You know why we can't have these unannounced drop-ins. Sigyn, I need to talk—"

"Baldr, can I just get the door? I don't want to leave him on the doorstep; it's so muggy tonight." Sigyn turned and walked to the door, smiling broadly as she opened it. On the front step stood a young man with short, wavy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He still held the look of boyhood, the youth of his face still not quite towards its adult development. His hair was still wet from being freshly washed; evidently he had just come straight from training.

"Sigyn," he said in greeting. "The master-at-arms kept us late. I know it's dark, but I came here as quickly as I could."

"It's fine," Sigyn said, smiling and giving him a cautious hug. He really was very cute when he stiffened slightly under her touch, eyes darting to the three faces peering at them from the kitchen table visible through the doorway.

"Please, come in," she said, opening the door and stepping aside. Ullr came in after her, trying his best to appear relaxed, but in the end he was as shy as a mouse. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing Sigyn had expected from someone who strove to join the ranks of the Einherjar, but that was life: it was unexpected, and interesting because of it.

"Sigyn, can I talk to you for a second?" Baldr asked again, gesturing for her to follow him to a corner. She sighed with exasperation before she did so — she had an idea as to what it was Baldr wanted to discuss. Baldr did not look wholly impressed with this new development.

"Look, Baldr, if this is what I'm thinking it is—"

"Are you sure he isn't here to nab some of our ideas?"

It was what Sigyn had guessed it to be.

"No. Baldr, Ullr doesn't know much about magic, so what is there for him to grab other than the enjoyment of the show?"

"He could be lying. Trying to get in close and acting the fool to do so; to play you."

"Norns, Baldr, Ullr wouldn't do that. Trust me, alright?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now stop being an ungracious host and let me get back to him."

Baldr looked at her flatly before he turned back to Ullr who was still standing in the doorway looking rather awkward.

"You're good. Come in."

Sigyn rolled her eyes for the second time in five minutes and crossed back to Ullr. "That is Baldr," she said, pointing to him as he tied his long silver-blond hair up in a tail, "and he apologises for that _unacceptable behaviour_." This she said with the slightest bite towards him.

"And I hope young Ullr accepts it," he said, straightening up at once and holding a hand out to Ullr, who took it. "Anyone serving in my father's army should never have to be subjected to that."

Ullr faltered a little. "Your father's army? As in the _Allfather_?"

"That's the one," Baldr said, running a hand through his hair. "Not that he'll ever acknowledge me, bastard son that I am. So you'll accept Odin's bastard's apology?"

"Aye, I do," Ullr murmured. He was still somewhat in a daze.

"Excellent," Sigyn said, beaming.

"Just exactly how old are you, Ullr? I'm curious."

Sigyn groaned under her breath and turned to the doorway leading back into the kitchen. Sjöfn tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder and raised an unwelcoming eyebrow. Ullr froze under her gaze, and his hands tightened in his coat. "Err … I'm a thousand and twenty-five. Who are you? We haven't met."

Sjöfn raised an eyebrow at Sigyn.

"Oh, that's Sjöfn," Sigyn said, giving her a subtle glare from behind Ullr's back. "If you would like to have a conversation full of cynical disposition, then she is the one to talk to. I talk to her whenever I want to feel bad about myself."

"Now would be a good time to talk so me," Sjöfn said, "so I can do my job and have fun wiping that sickening smile off your face."

"And so my point is proven," Sigyn said. "She's all bark and no bite, so if you're not afraid of being put down all the time and actually get to know her, she's not that bad of a person.

"And last but not least, Baldr's twin, Höðr."

"I'm used to being the least," Höðr said, raising a hand from the kitchen table. "Fraternal twins, obviously, so Baldr got most of the looks, but I'm still a good person to have a conversation with. I got the brains."

"You both have looks and brains," Sigyn said. "Ullr, would you like anything?"

"No, thank you," Ullr replied, still looking awkward.

"So, all the introducing has been done," she continued, slipping around everyone to stand at the back of the tiny room. It was really no bigger than a few metres: five in each direction and the limited floorspace had been stuffed with as much furniture as possible. "Ullr, if you want to sit, then feel free," Sigyn said, gesturing to the overstuffed couch which they had found on the side of the road a couple of decades back. Turning to the others, she said, "Alright. So I guess we'll move on. Maybe we should start with the third Raven Foot movement."

"That's not the actual title," Baldr put in as he hurried into position at the front of the group. "It's just a placehold—"

"Oh no one cares, Baldr," Sjöfn said. "Just get your arse doing what it needs to. Höðr, you too."

Sigyn raised her hands to eye level, breathing in deeply and touching the well of her magic. Faint blue light came to the tips of her fingers and she spread it with a flick. It bathed the area a blue the colour of the winter sky, the canvas upon which the others could cast their own illusions. A light show, her older sister Skaerir had said, nothing but a pretty light show, but Sigyn thought it was beautiful. Magic was her passion, no matter how rough the edges of hers were as most self-taught peoples' were.

Baldr did all the main legwork, having been the only one to have any kind of lessons, even if he did never bother to practice all that much and subsequently stop going to them. He was the one who painted the pictures on the canvas, illusions dancing forth from between his fingers like fireworks. Cold colours of green, blue, silver, and black burst forth across the blue, shaping dark, fantastical birds across a midwinter sky.

Sjöfn and Höðr provided the effects that made the magic feel tangible and real. Bird caws sounded throughout the space, magic tricking the feeling of feathers brushing against skin and the sound of claws clacking against stone ringing in the ears.

Baldr's birds circled on the blue, making shapes and patterns at dizzying speeds that had the look and feel of paint splashing through the air, a picture drawn to life in front of the audience of one — Ullr. He was staring at the magic, eyes wide as Baldr twisted his wrist, a movement into the final stage of this piece. The birds cried louder still, sweeping into every corner of the room, converging in on Ullr and he shrank back into the couch to avoid the birds as they disturbed his clothes and hair before rushing back into a great black column in the centre of the blue and snapping out of existence with a loud _crack!_ of thunder.

The four of them stood silent and still for a few heartbeats. "And that's all from us; we don't have a name for ourselves yet," Baldr finished. He was looking at Ullr rather anxiously, as if waiting for the final assessment.

"You're … wow," Ullr said, smiling at Sigyn and grinning broadly. "You're great!"

The truth: they weren't. And they all knew it. Perhaps they'd managed to fool Ullr.

But Sigyn and the others usually forgot that fact rather conveniently, and were instead happy to lap up whatever praise they were given. And as such, Baldr's earlier attitude towards Ullr had drastically and completely reversed after he had left a while later.

"I like the people you court, Sigyn," Baldr said, tossing up grapes and catching them in his mouth. The four of them had retreated to the further bedroom. They had sprawled themselves over chairs and the bed, lazily reaching or pieces of food and cups of weak wine. "They have good tastes in magic displays."

"Or have the common sense to be polite," Sjöfn muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

"Something you don't have," Sigyn said, clipped.

"But he seems nice," Baldr said to steer the conversation into a different direction.

Höðr nodded in agreement, an almost wistful look crossing his face as his twin said it, but Sjöfn wasn't nearly as taken by Ullr as the boys were.

"Sigyn, if your crappy decisions had a face, I would punch it."

"Ye— wait, what?" Sigyn asked, looking at Sjöfn with a confused expression.

"I mean are you really happy, or are you really being an arse?"

"What? Do I have ulterior motives or something of the sort? I'm hurt, Sjöfn."

"You're far too innocent in the ways of adult life to be hurt by that."

"Now I'm offended."

"You're in a magic group with me; get used to it."

"Höðr," Sigyn said, solely to shift the focus of the conversation to him, "you said he seems nice."

"Huh? Oh yes, he seems very nice," Höðr said absently, playing with a flicker of illusionary fire between his fingers.

Baldr hummed in confirmation, and Sjöfn only sighed. "Fine. I'm just going to sit here and wait for the inevitable blow up."

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><p><strong>Yay~<strong>

**—_aylithe_**


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